My Killer, My Love
by BloodyFaceInnit
Summary: What would happen if Tate and Violet were together when he shot up Westfield. What if he wasn't killed by the S.W.A.T team, instead he resides in prison. How does Violet cope? Violet POV.


I came up with this after seeing something on TV about women dealing with loved ones in prison and it got me thinking if Violet was actually around during the shooting and Tate wasn't shot down. How would she deal with having a boyfriend in prison? Yeah the concept is really stupid but it is 1.30am and I'm wide awake.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – So?<strong>

You would think I was used to this by now. Being roughed up by a beast of guy, surrounded by the clambering of cells door.

People judge me, a lot. They say I'm just as "psychotic" as he is. They don't know shit, and quite honestly I don't care.

Tate and I have been together since September 1993, so three years. We were happy and as cliché as it sounds madly in love. He was my best friend and my favourite person in the whole world, he still. It doesn't matter what he has done. I know that wasn't my Tate that day. It wasn't _my _Tate that did those awful things, things that would change some many lives.

I remember that day so clearly it seems like yesterday. It was October 8th 1994; Tate had been off the night before when we were together. After showing me how much he loves me in his own amazing way, he whispered in my ear that he loved me and then left me. I was late for school that day; my night with him has taken its toll on me. I remember seeing the cop cars and helicopters. I was told to stay away and when I asked what was going on I was told there was a "psycho shooting up the school." When you hear something like that you immediately panic. I worried for Tate's safety. It wasn't until they brought him out in handcuffs that I realised he was the shooter. I think that hurt more than the thought of him being hurt. The idea that the person who I trusted with my whole heart could do something so barbaric.

It was when he looked up at me though; I saw that he wasn't the Tate I knew. There was something about the darkness in his eyes.

He was put on trial and sentenced to life in a high security psychiatric facility. My parents were pissed when they found out I still kept in contact with him and weren't what you'd say thrilled when I told them were still "together."

So as I walk through the corridors to the visiting area, which is a step up from my past visits when Tate had to be kept behind a stupid window and we could only communicate through a stupid phone. Now I could hold him and tell him I love him properly.

When I see him I smile. Just seeing him makes me happy.

He looks tired, and aged. When I make eye contact with him, he gives me the grin that shows he is still my Tate.

When I get to the table I'm in his arms and my face is being peppered with kisses which make me giggle.

"I've missed you so much" he mutters in between kisses to my face.

"It's only been a week" I laugh but deep down I miss him too, all the time, even at this very moment when we're together in the same room.

"But still, it felt like years," he sighs, resting his forehead against mine. All I can do is smile and agree with him.

"I miss being with you," he says raising his eyebrows.

"I'm sure you've gotten by on that front plenty on your own. I know I have." I smirk.

"Oh really? Well I think we both know it's just not the same"

"Yeah." My cheeks are on fire.

Then the awkward silence came. I hate it when this happens; there isn't much we can actually say to one another.

"Christmas is coming up."

"Yeah."

"Yeah" he smiles, "You know what I want for Christmas?"

"What?"

"For you to be Mrs Violet Langdon" he says hopefully.

"You know that can't happen."

This is something we've been through before and it's something I want too but we can't have that. We can't have the whole white picket fence thing. Which sucks, but it can't be helped.

"I know and it's my entire fault."

"You're right it is."

What? Just because I love him doesn't mean I can't tell him the truth. If he hadn't gotten high and did what he did, we'd probably be married by now.

"But it's my fault too; if I had just listened to you maybe I could have stopped you. That's in the past though and it can't be changed so let's move on."

And we do. We sit for ours just talking and kissing because it's all we can do. Then when my hour is up I kiss him one last time and make my way to the door. That's then I hear him call my name. I turn around to see him halfway across the room in the grip of two guards.

"I love you baby!" he yells in front on everyone.

I giggle "I love you too!"

Okay, yeah we may be judged and I may be seen as a freak because I'm undeniably in love with a killer. But they don't know him. Yeah he did those things but he wasn't the same person that day.

I'm in love with a killer so what?

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><p><strong>So what do you think?<strong>

**Constructive criticism please.**


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